


we've all got scars to prove our tests

by Tash_ka



Series: how did your debts get paid? [6]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Lots of feelings all around, M/M, i wrote over 12k words so Micah would finally get what he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27531193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tash_ka/pseuds/Tash_ka
Summary: "You remember Micah, right? That fucking bastard that betrayed us all? Shot Arthur? That's the Micah I'm talking about.""We know, Sadie.""Then I don't understand why you all don't look happy that we finally have a chance to finish him off."
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith
Series: how did your debts get paid? [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1261172
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	we've all got scars to prove our tests

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it took a year and a half AND a pandemic, but I'm finally back with the last part of this series. At least for now, anyway. Although, if you have any idea for a story in this universe, let me know, maybe I'll get the inspiration to write it.
> 
> I must say that this was very satisfying to write, hope you'll like it as well. Let me know :)
> 
> Stay safe, guys!

Looking back, Arthur couldn’t believe it was only a year since he’d been shot. So much happened during this time, it was astonishing to think that his life could have changed so much in just twelve months. First his long recovery and settling down on the farm, then seeing Dutch again and the mess that followed. All the fears and worries that kept him and the rest of his family up at night. The persisting thought that all of this could be taken away from them at any moment. 

A whole year of getting used to their new life, to having a real home. Something he’d never thought he would have. He stopped hoping long ago that one day he could have a place to call his own, came to terms with the fact that he would always be a wanderer with nothing more to his name than what he could carry with him. After living for so long on the road, being finally able to have a permanent roof over his head was bewildering and wonderful at the same time. But it wasn’t just about the place. Sure, it was nice to know where he would sleep after a long day of work and to feel the sense of security this thought brought. He liked coming back to a warm meal and his own bed, but the thing that made the farm his home was his family. Finally having people that he cared about more than anything safe and happy, knowing that they trusted him with their lives and entrusting his life to them. 

A family was something Arthur always wanted, a thing that he almost had a few times before, only to see it crumble right before his eyes. To the point where he stopped trying, stopped seeking it out, resigned himself to always being alone. Life was funny that way, he supposed, because when he decided to give up hope, his family found him anyway. Even though he tried to run from it, resisted their affection with everything he had. In the end, there was no escaping. They found a way into his heart and settled there permanently. He had no idea why they decided he was worth the effort, kept trying to break through his tough and prickly exterior even though he fought them with all his might. All he could do now was accept them and try with everything he had to keep them from slipping away. 

Now, sitting next to the fireplace, feeling the heat on his outstretched palms and hearing Abigail murmuring softly to herself in the kitchen, it was difficult to even think about what his life was before this. It didn’t feel like a year, more like a lifetime, like the life he led before belonged to someone else. The memories were distant and foggy, slowly being replaced by the sense of security and joy every new day brought him. There were happy moments before, he remembered them vaguely, but they were few and far between. His past life was mostly cold and without color, a startling contrast to the way things were now. 

Deep in thought, he swept his gaze across the living room and wasn’t surprised when it immediately wandered to the bear fur spread on the floor next to the fireplace. He couldn’t help a smile spreading across his face. There were two small figures laying on the fur, both snoring softly. One of them was Jack, barely visible, his tiny frame almost fully covered by a big brown dog spread on the top of him. 

Arthur still wasn’t sure exactly how they ended up with a dog. All he knew was that one day Jack came back home with a stray and the dog stayed. Jack named him Rufus and they were inseparable since. He didn't really mind. It was nice to have a dog again. Something he’d missed since his last one died. Somehow it made the farm feel even more like home. He never told it to anyone, Charles teased him for being a softie enough as it was, but having a dog felt permanent, felt like growing roots. As much as he tried to scoff at that thought it made him feel warm inside in a way he never felt before. 

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard door opening and closing. He knew immediately who it was, the footsteps were light and careful, too quiet to be anyone other than Charles. The other man stopped next to his chair, placing a hand on his shoulder in a silent greeting. 

Arthur tilted his head back, anticipating a kiss, and Charles immediately obliged, pressing his lips to Arthur’s and lingering for a moment before he pulled back with a smile. Arthur responded with a small twitch at the corners of his lips, taking a moment to look Charles up and down. His clothes and face were covered in dust and braids in his long, black hair were beginning to get loose after a whole day of riding, but there was nothing indicating that he got into any trouble on the way. 

“How was your day?” Arthur asked anyway, watching as Charles took another chair from the table and moved it closer to him. 

“Good. I bought the horses. They look really impressive, just like you said. I put them in the stable for the night.” Charles replied, stretching his whole body until his back popped and somehow managing to end up with a hand in Arthur’s hair. Not that he complained. 

“Any problems?” The question was more of a content sigh, as Arthur settled into the hand gently massaging his head. 

“Well, the guy did try to inflate the price, once he figured out I was interested, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.” Charles shrugged, pausing, before he continued with a teasing smile. “You should have come with me though. I could have used your special talents to convince him.”

Arthur snorted, looking at Charles in disbelief. “Brawl?” 

“I meant your menacing glare. I don’t think the sheriff would appreciate it if we started beating people up.” 

“Right” Arthur agreed with a slow nod. For a moment he tried to recall when was the last time he was actually in a fist fight and came up empty. The farm life was really making him an honest citizen. “Well, if one day you decide that you want to brawl, let me know in advance. I think I might be a bit rusty.”

That forced a huff of laughter out of Charles. 

“Living on the farm is making you soft, Arthur? Want to stir some trouble to feel big and bad again?” He laughed even harder when Arthur replied with a slight shove to his shoulder, not hard enough to push him off the chair and certainly not hard enough to justify the indignant look Charles gave him. 

Arthur used the hand still resting on Charles’ biceps to steady him and pull him closer, kissing the mock hurt off his face. 

“You don’t think I’m still big and bad?” he demanded, pulling back and looking at Charles with raised eyebrow. 

“What if I say no?” Charles’ eyes were sparking with challenge, something Arthur could never say no to. 

“Then I’ll just have to prove it to you” he replied, pulling the other man roughly towards him. 

“Sounds like fun” Charles grinned, lopsided, making Arthur growl low in his throat. 

It was that smile that got him every time. The mix of confidence and glee in Charles’ expression, making the already too damn attractive man nearly irresistible, causing Arthur’s skin to burn with desire to touch and be touched. He didn’t know why something so simple was making him react that way and wasn’t going to dwell on it now. Not when he had the other man just inches away, waiting patiently, knowing very well what that smile did to Arthur. 

Before he had a chance to do anything, they were interrupted by someone pointedly clearing their throat. They both jumped a little, startled by the sudden return to the world outside of their little bubble. Arthur could feel Charles’ disappointed sigh on his skin, as he reluctantly let the other man straighten up, both exchanging one last heated look before they turned towards the sound. The source of their interruption was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, looking very amused and not at all apologetic.

"Abigail" Charles greeted her warmly, completely unfazed by the way she caught them in a compromising situation. Arthur, who could feel his cheeks getting redder by the second, really envied him for that.

Abigail nodded in response. Her eyes wandered from Charles to Arthur and then back, as she grinned widely.

"I'd say that you two should get a room, but dinner is almost ready."

Arthur was already opening his mouth to protest, but Charles beat him to it.

"Don't worry, we'll be sure to get a room after dinner." 

Arthur could see his lips twitching and barely stopped himself from hiding his face in his hands. It never ceased to amaze him how comfortable Charles was talking about their relationship with the others. Unlike Arthur who was ready to show affection in front of others but whenever someone said something about them he immediately turned skittish. It still seemed too new to him, too fragile to talk about it openly. Some part of him still thought all they had would collapse the moment he said it out loud. 

Of course, Charles knew all of that without Arthur ever having to tell him. He seemed content with giving Arthur all the time he needed to feel comfortable, knowing that he would eventually get there. It was another reason why Arthur loved him so much. 

"Thank you, Charles" Abigail chuckled, before turning to Arthur. "Arthur, could you find John and tell him that dinner is ready?"

*

Contrary to what John used to say, Abigail’s cooking wasn’t terrible. On a day when she remembered to season the food it was actually pretty good. It was mainly thanks to Sadie and the lessons she started giving Abigail after the first time she tried her food. Besides, not even Abigail could ruin the fresh venison from a deer Arthur killed just this morning. For all of them, used to living on whatever they could get their hands on, being able to sit down to a meal and eat until they were full was in itself a treat. 

Arthur sighed contentedly as he leaned back on the couch, hands on his too full stomach. On both sides of him Charles and John did the same. It was already getting dark outside and Arthur had a suspicion that none of them would get up before it was time for bed.

It was alright though. The animals were already taken care of for the night. There was nothing pressing to worry about. They had enough food, a solid roof over their heads and, most importantly, they felt safe. Maybe the house wasn’t in the best shape and would need renovating in the spring, but it was enough for now. It was the best they ever had and, most importantly, something they could call their own. 

“I think I’m going to sleep here tonight. Unless one of you wants to carry me I don’t think I’ll be able to move” John said, breaking the silence, as he started to fidget, trying to find the most comfortable position to sleep in. 

Arthur rolled his eyes. Leave it to John Marston to ruin every peaceful moment in his life. He was pretty sure the man wouldn’t know how to shut up if his life depended on it. Actually, he didn’t have to think about this one, that had already happened. 

Then John’s elbow jabbed him between the ribs as the man tried to get comfortable half-laying on the couch that was already too small for three grown men. Arthur grunted, irritated, poking at John’s chest with his own elbow.

“Can’t you shut up for just a moment, Marston? Why do you have to go yapping like a dog every time I want a moment of peace? Hell, the dog is better behaved then you are” he growled, too tired to put any real heat behind it. 

John only snorted and deliberately wiggled a little bit more, just to annoy him. Arthur really missed the times when Marston had some respect for him. It lasted just a few months when the other man was still a teenager, but Arthur remembered it as the only time when John Marston was bearable.

“I think Charles is asleep.” John observed after a moment, raising his head to get a better look over Arthur.

“Damn, he really can sleep through anything” Arthur replied, voice dripping with sarcasm, as he resigned himself to the fact that John wasn’t going to shut up any time soon. 

“I just want to spend some time with my brother. Is that so bad? We barely even talk anymore.” John sent him a sad look that Arthur almost believed, until he continued, a wide grin suddenly stretching his face. “So, how is it going with Charles?”

Arthur stared at him for a moment, face blank. “What are you, a twelve-year-old girl?”

He watched with satisfaction as John’s grin immediately vanished, replaced by petulant expression. 

“Come on, tell me. You hardly ever talk about it.”

“I’m not gossiping with you, Marston” Arthur grumbled, silently praying to whatever god was there that he wouldn't start blushing. 

“But I always talk to you about Abigail and me” John whined, sending him a pleading look, which only gave him an even stronger resemblance to a dog in Arthur’s opinion.

“That’s because you like to hear your own voice too much.”

John rolled his eyes, as he laid back with an exasperated sigh. “Whatever, don’t talk if you don’t want to. It’s all over your face anyway.”

“What?” Arthur turned towards him so quick that his stomach protested, startled. 

John smirked. “Now you want to talk?” Arthur kicked him in the shin. “Alright, alright. I’m just saying that we all see how happy you are with him. You have no poker face when it comes to your feelings.”

Arthur opened his mouth, then closed them immediately, not sure how to reply. Of course, he knew how happy Charles made him, but never thought that the others could see it too. That it was written so clearly on his face.

“We are all happy for you, you know? It’s about time you found someone who cares about you as much as you care about them.” John put a hand on his shoulder and gripped it reassuringly, looking at Arthur with amusement. “Now, I think I’ve reached my limit of talking about feelings for today and you look close to having a heart attack, so how about we change the subject?”

“Right” Arthur blinked, looking at him dumbly, no longer able to contain the blush spreading on his cheeks. “Thanks” he grunted, awkwardly patting John on his outstretched arm before looking away. 

After that John went quiet for a change, opting to sink back into the couch and close his eyes. It took only a moment for his breath to become deep and even, causing Arthur to glance at his sleeping form in disbelief. He cursed the other man silently for saying all those things and then leaving him to mull over them.

It wasn’t even anything in particular that John said that caught him off balance. Sure, having a relationship talk with John Marston was awkward as hell and there were tortures that he would prefer to ever repeating this horror, but other than confirming that Arthur was like an open book when it came to his feelings, John didn’t say anything he didn’t already know. It was just that while John talked Arthur had finally realized something that was true for a long time, but he’d never dared to think about. 

He loved Charles. 

He loved Charles like he’d never loved anyone before. There were a few times in his life when Arthur thought he was in love and maybe it was true, he didn’t want to dwell on that now. All he knew was that this time it was different. 

Charles was his best friend, his moral compass and support every time things got tough. He made Arthur happier than anyone ever before, made him want to be the best possible version of himself. Arthur loved all of him, from his infatuating smirks to his soft good morning kisses. And for some reason it wasn’t scary at all. 

The sound of doors opening and closing with a loud thud caused him to jump, as he was rapidly pulled out of his thoughts. Next to him, Charles and John stirred.

Arthur strained his neck over John’s head. He was too full to be more than mildly alarmed at the sudden intrusion but quickly relaxed again when he saw Sadie standing in the entrance. 

She walked in, brushing dirt off her coat and pants, smiling like a cat that got the cream. Arthur narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He knew that look from experience and it always brought trouble. 

Sadie took one look at them, sprawled on the couch, sleepy and still too full to move, and her expression changed to something between disgust and pity. 

"You look like domesticated pigs" she snorted, her nose crinkling as if she smelled something bad.

"Believe me, right now I feel like one" John responded, slightly patting his rounded stomach with a lazy grin. 

Sadie threw another long, assessing glance across the couch. Arthur could swore that for a moment she looked hesitant. Finally, it seemed that reluctance lost the internal battle because it only took another few seconds before she spoke again. 

"Well, I hope the three of you still remember how to shoot, because I've got some news." 

Their heads turned towards her at the same time, peering curiously above the backrest of the couch. 

"What's going on?" Arthur asked, already feeling himself getting more alert with the well known feeling of adrenaline pumping back into his veins.

"We're still safe here, don't worry" Sadie reassured quickly, making him realize how tense he suddenly became, hand instinctively going to his belt in search of a gun that wasn’t there. It seemed that even when it felt like he left his old life ages ago, his old instincts were alive and well. "But I heard something in a saloon. About Micah and where we can find him." 

She paused to wait for their reaction but there wasn't any. Charles and John seemed to freeze at her words. Arthur couldn’t say he blamed them. All he could do for a long moment was sit with eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. Sudden shock of hearing Micah’s name after so long mixed with a cold tingle of fear. Even before fully realizing what this information meant, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it could end the life he now had.

There was their past coming back again just when they thought they finally freed themselves from it, cut all ties with their old life the day they said goodbye to Dutch. But now the past was rearing its ugly head, giving them the only son of a bitch that Arthur ever regretted not killing. 

"You remember Micah, right? That fucking bastard that betrayed us all? Shot Arthur? That's the Micah I'm talking about."

"We know, Sadie" he finally replied, knowing very well that his tone was betraying how tense he suddenly felt. 

All of the sudden he felt angry at Sadie. He hated that she dared to come here tonight and disturb their happiness. She should have known better than to spring something like this on them, to bring all those painful memories with her, when all Arthur wanted to do was forget them. He hated the way she barged in ready to lead them into a fight, looking more and more annoyed every second they weren’t on board. As if she couldn't understand their hesitation.

Arthur took a deep, slow breath. He knew that his anger was misplaced and blaming Sadie wouldn’t do any good. It was his own fault that instead of facing the past he tried to bury it. Even though he always knew that sooner or later Sadie or John would start talking about revenge. His avoidance certainly wouldn't make the conversation they were about to have any easier. Especially when he had a feeling how it was going to go and that it wasn’t going to end well. 

"Then I don't understand why you all don't look happy that we finally have a chance to finish him off." Sadie huffed, her eyes wide in disbelief. 

"That's because it's not a good idea" Charles' voice was still raspy from sleep, but when Arthur twisted in his seat to take a better look at him, the man looked as alert as ever. "There's nothing good that can come from going after Micah." 

"Nothing good?" John asked in bewilderment, looking at Charles with furrowed brow. Arthur’s shoulders sagged heavily. It was exactly how he imagined this conversation going. "Killing that bastard seems like a pretty good outcome to me." 

"You want to risk all we have for revenge? It's not worth it." Charles' face was stoic and he spoke softly, but Arthur knew him well enough to detect frustration brewing inside him. He had a sudden urge to touch him, take his hand and try to calm him down. Instead he clenched his hands into fists, jaw set tightly.

"He needs to pay for what he did." Sadie demanded, eyes narrowed, staring at Charles with a hard glare. In a few steps she moved across the room to sit in front of them on the chair that Arthur had occupied just a few hours ago. "We can't just sit and do nothing while he is out there alive and well after what he did to us."

"Believe me, Sadie, I want him dead as much as you do..." 

"Really? Because from where I'm sitting it doesn't seem that way. Or did three meals a day make you soft?" She asked with a sardonic smile, throwing condescending look at the three of them. 

Charles barely even reacted, except for a twitch in his cheek, easy to miss, but a clear indication that he was using the last of his strength to keep anger under control. To the outside he looked as impassive as ever, yet again making Arthur wonder how someone could be so good at hiding. 

John, on the other hand, couldn’t contain himself at all. He stood up abruptly, taking one step towards Sadie, before turning to the couch. Suddenly he seemed much different than the man who just a few minutes ago claimed he couldn't move at all. Now he looked ready to jump back into action. 

"We have to go" he announced as his eyes, bright with excitement, briefly caught Arthur's even though he was mainly addressing Charles. 

"And what about your family, John?" Charles asked, drawing out every word. His piercing, black eyes were fully focused on the other man.

"What about them?" John almost jumped with indignation, looking ready to fight. 

"Tell me, what happens to Abigail and Jack after you die on a foolish revenge mission? Do they matter so little to you that you’d throw yourself into unnecessary danger just for the thrill of it?" 

Hearing the words coming out of Charles’ mouth, Arthur couldn’t help but wince. They were cold and unforgiving, each one said with deadly precision, designed to shock John, to hurt him. If Charles was thinking straight right now, he’d know that they would only make John angrier.

He half expected John to punch him then and there, but Marston was much better at controlling his impulses these days. Still, he looked ready to explode and when he finally spoke the words were drawled through barely contained rage.

“You know nothing about me and my family, so stay out of it.” The only response he got was an eyebrow raised in challenge. “I’m warning you, Charles, I’ll…”

“John” Arthur barked, deciding it was finally time to intervene. 

The sound of his name stopped John in his tracks for a moment, before he turned to Arthur with a snarl. “You’re defending him?”

“No” he assured, sending a quick glance towards Charles, the other man wasn’t looking at him. “I want to stop the two of you before things get even more out of hand.”

“It’s just…” John started, breathing out heavily as his stance visibly relaxed. He shook his head slowly from side to side, mulling over something in his head. “What do you think we should do, Arthur?”

Arthur hated this question as much as he saw it coming. The truth was, he had no idea what to do. There was a fight inside his mind, much the same as the one playing out before him. It almost felt like two different people were in his head, each one of them equally loud. There was the old Arthur, brass and reckless, still hurt by the betrayal and wanting justice for what happened to his family. Then there was the new Arthur, older and, if not wiser, more responsible, able to recognize the danger they could bring onto themselves when starting on the path of revenge. He lowered his head, letting his hair fall down and partly cover his face. 

“I don’t know” he sighed, closing his eyes briefly, as if this action could transport him somewhere else and take the burden of his shoulders.

“The decision is up to you, Arthur. John and I are for killing Micah, Charles is quite clearly against it, and I think we all know what Abigail will say. So, it’s two against two. You decide.” 

Sadie’s voice barely registered in Arthur’s mind, as the thoughts in his head were spiraling in every direction. There was again that sudden bolt of anger, because it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to make that decision, to know that, whatever happened, everything from now on would be because of him. If anything bad happened the guilt would rest on his shoulders.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed, until he finally spoke, head still lowered and eyes staring intently into the ground. 

“We’re leaving in two days.”

There was a sudden movement next to him, then a sound of footsteps walking away. Arthur didn’t have to look up to know that it was Charles who just walked away. Suddenly, his stomach felt like it was full of lead.

“I’m sorry that you had to make that call, Arthur” Sadie said, her tone soft and compassionate. He was sure that right now her eyes were full of sadness for the choice he had to make, but he couldn’t make himself meet them. He was too afraid of what she would see in his.

“Someone had to” Arthur forced himself to sound reassuring, but was pretty sure that he missed by a mile. Sadie surely realized that he didn’t want to speak to her right now, couldn’t even look at her. There was nothing he could do about the anger and hurt he felt towards her, other than to wait for it to pass. 

Instead he turned to face John, who stood next to her, stiff and tense. 

“You’re gonna be alright?” 

He received a curt nod in reply. John’s eyes met his, unsure and apologetic, as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words.

“I…” he started hesitantly “I didn’t want it to go like this. I’m sorry.”

Arthur waved him off. 

“You better worry about telling Abigail. She’ll have your head for this. I’ll talk to Charles.” Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at seeing John’s expression change from regret to pure terror at the mention of Abigail, but then he remembered how Charles stormed out of the room and immediately sobered up. They both had difficult conversations ahead of them.

“Well, good luck to you” John grimaced, casting a resigned glance towards his and Abigail’s bedroom. “I’ll better go and tell her.”

*

Arthur took the last few steps and stopped in front of the door to his bedroom. His and Charles’, to be exact, as they started sharing the room shortly after they got together. He stood there for a moment, his eyes absentmindedly tracking imperfections in the wood, as he tried to gather enough courage to go in. 

From the way Charles left the room just minutes earlier, Arthur could imagine just how mad he was. His lover wasn’t someone who showed his emotions freely, especially negative emotions. He always hid them behind a mask of detachment and disinterest. Arthur could only remember a handful of times when he lost control like that, let his mask slip enough to reveal the raw emotion beneath. And this time it was Arthur who caused it. 

It felt weird, arguing with Charles. It was the first time they ever had a disagreement like that. Normally, they pretty much agreed on the most important things and if they didn’t, somehow, they’d always managed to figure it out without a fight breaking out. Arthur knew that Charles cut him a lot of slack, often letting him have his way even when he thought differently. He always had Arthur’s back when it came to making decisions for their group, never doubting his judgement even when Arthur doubted himself. Until now.

He took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly, as he tried to get his nerves under control. Finally, almost despite himself, he reached for the door handle and pushed the door open. 

Arthur felt his mouth getting dry when he saw Charles sitting at the foot of the bed, eyes looking straight ahead. He had to hear the door opening but made no move to acknowledge it. Arthur swallowed heavily, his voice sounding scratchy to his own ears as he spoke.

“Am I still allowed here? Or should I fight John for the couch?” He mentally slapped himself, as soon as the words left his mouth. If he had to make a list of the worst ways to start this conversation this would surely be on the top of it. A joke? He really was a damn idiot.

He was so busy berating himself, he barely noticed Charles inviting him in with a gesture. The other man didn’t smile, he didn’t even look his way, but it was still more than Arthur expected. Arthur mumbled his thanks as the door clicked shut behind him.

He waited a moment, hoping that Charles would say something, but from the way he didn’t even turn towards Arthur it seemed unlikely. It was clear that he wasn’t going to make the conversation easy on Arthur. He had to be the one to start, before the silence went on for too long, making the whole thing even more uncomfortable.

“We should talk about it” he said, sounding far more composed than he felt, as he walked across the room and stopped in front of Charles, directly in his line of vision. He crossed his arms in a gesture he hoped looked more assertive than what it really was, an instinct to protect himself, and leaned on the wall behind him, waiting. 

Charles' gaze still didn’t move, set somewhere on the level of Arthur’s chest, but he slowly nodded. When his eyes finally met Arthur’s there was fire in them, fierce and untamed, his brows set in a frown, looking determined.

"Arthur, this is insane." It's been a while since Arthur heard Charles raise his voice. He wasn't yelling, but the contrast was enough to make Arthur pause. It was always startling to hear normally calm and collected Charles lose his cool like that. 

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur replied, trying to keep his tone leveled even though inside he was shaking, hating every moment of fighting with Charles. “I know the risks.”

“Then why? Explain it to me, Arthur.” His tone got softer, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Even the fire in his eyes seemed to cool down, replaced by something warm and pleading, begging Arthur to understand. 

Arthur did understand. He knew perfectly well all the arguments Charles could use, hell, he agreed with most of them. But Charles wasn’t there when Micah shot him and left him to die. When he stood over him laughing like a madman, repeating over and over again how he’d kill John and Abigail next, the glee in his voice as Arthur laid helpless on the ground. He didn’t know what it was like to watch the gang he cared for, that he’d done everything in his power to protect, being torn apart, to watch his friends being killed. All because Micah betrayed them.

Then he thought about Sadie’s determination, about John’s excitement at the thought of finishing off that son of a bitch once and for all. He could see the scene clearly in his head. Micah standing with his pistol drawn, laughing, but this time it wasn’t Arthur on the ground. It was Sadie, bloody and barely able to move, but still trying to crawl towards her gun, even though she knew it was no use. It was John beaten within the inch of his life, silently pleading Abigail to forgive him moments before Micah put a bullet in his brain. Arthur knew them well enough to know that they would go after Micah with or without him and he refused to let them go alone.

“I want him dead, Charles” he said finally, eyes locked with Charles and gaze unwavering. “You know, I almost forgot how I hate him, until everything rushed back all at once. What he did to us? What he would do to us if he knew we were near? He doesn’t deserve to live for that.”

“Arthur…” Charles sighed, standing up and taking a step towards Arthur, bringing them close enough to touch. 

“I’m sorry, Charles. I know that you’re disappointed in me.” Arthur chuckled humorlessly, shaking his head slightly. “You always thought I was a better man than I really am. Well, finally you see.”

He was aware of Charles’ watchful eyes scrutinizing him, as he averted his own gaze towards the floor. The silence between them stretched, making Arthur’s skin crawl with apprehension. He didn’t dare to look up, afraid of what he would see in Charles’ expression. There was a small voice in his head, the same voice that was always telling him that he wasn’t good enough, that Charles deserved better than the old, dumb outlaw that he was. This time it was repeating what Arthur had told himself many times before. It wasn’t going to last. 

“Arthur, look at me” Charles’ soft tone brought him out of his thoughts. He repeated the words again and when Arthur still didn’t react, reached for his jaw, gently tipping his face up, until Arthur had no other choice but to look into his eyes. “I know that you are a good man, there’s nothing that can change my mind about that” he spoke slowly, each word deliberate, staring into Arthur’s eyes as though he could see straight into his soul. 

All Arthur could do was stare back, almost as if hypnotized, treating every word Charles said like it was a drop of water in the desert, like his words were the only thing keeping him alive. In some way they were. Maybe not keeping him alive but helping to keep his insecurities at bay. He was shaking all over, and yet, somehow, he felt safe. Loved.

“If killing Micah is something you need to finally put your mind to rest, then we’ll do it” he finished with a small twitch to his lips, thumb running across Arthur’s jaw in feather-light touch. 

Arthur, who didn’t even notice that he started worrying his lower lip between his teeth some time ago, now abruptly dropped it, mouth opening and brows raising as high as they could go. For a moment he just stood like this, gaping, not really believing what he’d just heard. He could see Charles’ amusement growing by the minute. 

“You mean… You will come too?” He asked, his hands wandering to Charles’ hips, no longer able to keep them off the other man.

Charles rolled his eyes. 

“Of course. Someone has to stop you fools from getting yourselves killed” he huffed, taking a step closer, into Arthur’s chest. “That doesn’t mean I don’t think this is a fucking stupid idea, Arthur. Because it is. The stupidest one you had in a while.” He grumbled, but there was no real heat behind those words, not like there was before. 

“What changed your mind?” 

“Like I said. I want you to be able to live your life. It’s clear that as long as he’s alive you can’t do it, so we kill him. He doesn’t matter to me, but you do.” 

Charles said all of this with a shrug, almost as if he wasn’t aware of the affect his words were having on Arthur. How they made his stomach flutter and eyes prickle, caused his hands to tighten on Charles’ hips to stop them from trembling embarrassingly. How, if this was possible, they made him love Charles even more.

“I love you” Arthur whispered before he could even comprehend what he was saying. Even though those words were unplanned, he couldn’t find it in himself to regret them. Saying them only made him realize how right they sounded, how long he wanted to say them. 

There was no doubt in his mind that he meant it, no fear that Charles would reject his confession, especially when he saw the look on his lover’s face. How it was suddenly glowing with delight, brightened by a slowly growing smile.

“Arthur” his name was a soft sigh on Charles’ lips as he moved even closer to kiss him with breathless wonder. The kiss was quick and gentle, but Charles didn’t move right away, keeping their faces close, noses touching. “I love you too.”

This time Arthur was the one who moved in for a kiss. He pulled the other man roughly towards him by the hips, as his lips found Charles’, kissing him hard and not letting go until he was gasping for breath. 

Charles’ head fell onto his shoulder, his face hiding in the crook of Arthur’s neck. He chuckled, making Arthur shiver when he felt hot air tickling his skin, then pressed his lips to the same spot. 

“Not bad for our first fight” he smiled, eyes shining as he raised his head back up.

Arthur couldn’t help but return the smile, wide and full of teeth. 

“Not bad at all” he agreed, his thumbs running slow circles on Charles’ abdomen. “Does it mean we get to have make up sex now?” He smiled slyly, not even trying to be inconspicuous, as his fingers slowly moved closer to Charles’ belt.

Charles growled something unintelligible in response, but the way he backed Arthur into the wall was an answer enough.

*

The next few days were spent on preparing for the journey ahead, as well as coming up with a plan. Which wasn’t easy considering the fact that Sadie knew only a vague location of Micah and the men who were riding with him. They weren’t far, no more than a day’s ride away, hiding in the mountains. 

It wasn’t the first time Arthur was planning to take out a gang hideout, but he couldn’t help the feeling that this time it was different. Not only because this time it was personal, but mainly because now he had something to lose. Sadie, Charles and John were his family, the family he silently swore to protect no matter what, and the thought that one of them might get hurt was weighing on him heavily. Still, part of him was happy that they were doing this together, because deep down he knew that he couldn’t find better people to ride with. There was no one else he trusted so completely, who would have his back no matter what happened.

He woke up early on the day of their journey. It was still dark outside, the sun was barely starting to rise, but Arthur knew that he wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep. There was an anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach, something he couldn’t shake off, no matter how much he tried to tell himself that everything was going to be fine. Something rooted inside him, constant and insistent, spreading farther and farther, the more he thought about it, crawling under his skin, deep and ugly. It made him fidget, infecting his thoughts with worry, as he tossed from side to side, trying to clear his mind. 

A hand landed on his chest, stopping him mid movement and effectively pressing him down into the mattress. His gaze followed the outstretched arm, briefly stopping on the exposed chest, until it met Charles’ eyes, wide open and almost glowing in the gray light of the room. 

“You alright?” Charles’ voice was heavy with sleep, momentarily making Arthur feel guilty for waking him. But as he took a breath, preparing to answer, he felt the way Charles’ hand was grounding him, making the anxious knot loosen a little bit, making it easier to think clearly.

“Yeah, thanks” he sighed gratefully, covering the hand on his chest with his own. “Sorry, for waking you. Get back to sleep, I’m fine.” 

Charles ignored the blatant lie, opting instead to lay his head on Arthur’s shoulder, some of his hair landing on Arthur’s face in the process, making him huff a laugh.

“I swear to God, one day you’re going to strangle me in my sleep with this hair of yours” he rolled his eyes, using his unoccupied hand to gather the hair and move it out of the way.

Charles hummed and snuggled even closer. “You want me to cut them?”

Arthur combed his hand through Charles’ hair, straightening them up and gently untangling knots. They felt almost like water, delicate and silky to the touch. Beautiful. He felt something soft and protective rising inside his chest.

“Don’t you dare.”

Charles chuckled in response, his breath hot and damp on Arthur’s skin. “You only want me for my hair.”

“Yes, darling. You’re such a pain to deal with, but I suffer through it just to be able to touch your hair.” Arthur could feel his smile getting wider as he spoke, suddenly feeling giddy. Charles’ answering laugh made him glow with warmth.

“I’m onto you, Arthur Morgan” Charles huffed, lightly tapping his index finger on Arthur’s solar plexus. 

They stayed silent after that, letting the laughter die down, just enjoying each other’s company, as the sun started to slowly rise over the horizon. Arthur had to doze off for a moment, because next time he opened his eyes first rays of sunshine were already peeking through their window, dancing on the wooden floor. 

They both got up without hurry, sharing slow kisses while dressing and on their way out of the bedroom. Once they reached the kitchen, Sadie and John were already there, sitting and drinking coffee, sharing quiet conversation. The both looked up when Charles and Arthur came in.

Arthur was happy to see Charles resting his hand briefly on John’s shoulder in greeting, before he did the same to Sadie. He was afraid it would take the two of them a while to patch things up between them, but it seemed that after a brief conversation, things between them went back to normal. 

“You okay, boys?” Sadie asked, sliding a mug of hot, steaming coffee towards Arthur, Charles already nursing the second one between his palms.

“Sure, but I’ll be much better when that son of a bitch is in the ground.” Arthur shrugged, taking a sip of scalding liquid and burning his tongue in the process. He cursed silently, briefly catching Charles’ amused stare, as the other man was patiently blowing air into his own mug. “What time are we leaving?”

“I was actually about to leave.” Sadie declared, pushing her chair back forcefully and standing up. When she saw Arthur’s questioning gaze she explained. “I know we were supposed to leave together, but I may be able to find out more about where they are alone. One woman is much less suspicious than four people asking around.”

Arthur nodded briefly resting a hand on her shoulder, as she walked past him. 

“Be careful. We’ll leave in two hours.” He observed her for a moment, watching her gather her pistols and satchel. “Sadie.” She stopped right in front of the door and turned towards him questioningly, one hand already on the door handle. “Don’t go after him alone.” 

Their eyes met and Arthur was sure that it was exactly what Sadie planned. She felt guilty for dragging them into this, didn’t think it through before rushing to demand their help. It didn’t matter that they all agreed to do it, if one of them died it would weigh on her conscience just as much as on his.

Sadie studied his face for a moment before nodding with resigned sigh. “Have it your way. I’ll meet you boys in the saloon.”

Then she left, leaving the three of them around the table to finish their breakfast. They ate in silence, each man deep in his own thoughts. While Arthur could imagine what was going through Charles’ head, probably the same worries that were keeping Arthur quiet as well, he couldn’t fathom what could preoccupy John so much. He sat, barely touching his food, brows furrowed in deep thought, completely unaware of his surroundings.

His answer came soon enough, just after they’d finished eating and were beginning to gather things needed for their journey. Charles was outside, saddling Taima, when John approached him, the same thoughtful expression on his face.

“Arthur?” Arthur hummed in response, most of his attention on the hunting knife laid out on his lap, that he had just begun sharpening. “Can we talk for a moment?” 

The tone of John’s voice made him stop abruptly. It reminded him of when John was a kid. Whenever he felt lost or afraid, he would come to Arthur, using the exact same tone, solemn and subdued, to ask for help without really saying that he needed it. He put the knife down on the table and turned towards the other man. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, trying not to sound too worried, even though John’s unusual behavior was starting to make him nervous.

The other man sat down heavily on the chair beside him and took a deep breath before facing Arthur. “Abigail is pregnant.”

Arthur blinked slowly a few times, staring dumbly at Marston with jaw hanging. “What?”

John frowned. “I’ve just said…”

“I know what you said, Marston.”

“Then why are you asking?” 

Arthur just shook his head, too dazed by the news to take the bait and start another stupid argument with John. “She’s sure?” 

“Almost hundred percent. She wanted to wait until she knew for certain, but with this whole Micah business… She said she wanted me to know in case something happened.” John clenched his jaw, lips forming one thin line, as he was undoubtedly imagining what exactly could happen.

“You know, I’m surprised you’re still here, considering what happened the last time you found out you were having a kid. Are you planning to flee again, Marston?” Arthur regretted what he said as soon as the words left his mouth. It was uncalled for, he knew that. Especially seeing how Marston was really growing into the role of a father, trying hard to do right by Abigail and Jack.

“Do you really think I would?” John briefly cast his eyes to the floor, before looking back at him, a flicker of hurt in his gaze.

Arthur sighed, cursing himself silently. “I don’t. Sorry. It’s just so unexpected.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You’re going to be a father. Again.”

“I know, right? Who would have thought?” John huffed a disbelieving laugh, running a hand down his face. He looked as if the full realization just hit him. Arthur couldn’t help but smile at his astonished expression, patting him on the back.

“You know, Marston, for a while I thought that you were a lost cause. The way you tried to run away from all your problems, sometimes literally. I was so angry because I knew you could be much better. But now?” He paused, noticing the way the other man began to pout, barely keeping himself from protesting. “What I mean to say is, I’m proud of you, John.”

Apparently, that was all it took to render John speechless, at least for a moment, while he gaped at Arthur in confusion. Until he finally snapped out of it enough to respond. 

“I always knew you were a big softie, Arthur” he waved his hand, trying to laugh it off, and if his voice was a bit more wobbly than usual Arthur decided not to mention it. 

“So, you think about not going?” Arthur started after silence settled between them for a minute or two, knowing John needed that time to process his thoughts.

“No” he replied immediately, not even considering the possibility. “You know I need to be there, the same as you. Abigail knows that too.”

“She sure yelled a lot for someone who knows it” Arthur huffed, shrugging at John’s hard glare.

“Do you blame her?” 

Arthur shook his head in response. Of course he didn’t. He understood Abigail’s frustration very well. Even if she wouldn’t be expecting another baby, leaving her here alone was unfair, especially when they couldn’t guarantee they would come back. He would stop John himself, but it wasn’t his place. Just as him, John had unfinished business that he needed to put behind him.

“Well, I guess we better make sure you come back. I wouldn’t want you to miss your kid taking their first steps again.” 

John only rolled his eyes, deciding to let this one go.

*

“We’re going to do it as quietly as possible. Dutch got Pinkertons off of our back, but we sure as hell don’t want to remind them that we still exist. Charles, will you go to the saloon and meet with Sadie? John and I will set up a camp somewhere around here. We’ll decide what next when you join us.”

"Whatever you wish, sweetheart" Charles replied, voice light and teasing. It was designed to keep Arthur, who barely even noticed how tense he became during the last hour, as they were slowly getting closer to their meeting place, at ease. He took a deep breath, relaxing his hands that were gripping the reins a little bit too tightly and sent Charles a grateful look.

There was a loud, disbelieving snort behind him and Arthur groaned inwardly, trying his best not to turn around. He didn't have to look at John to know the expression on his face. The bastard was laughing at him, probably wondering how the big, bad Arthur Morgan ended up so smitten, to the point of allowing Charles to call him pet names.

"Shut up, Charles" Arthur mumbled, more for the show than with any real intent, as he looked down, suddenly very interested in his hands. It seemed to cause both men even more delight, with Charles huffing a laugh and John saying something that sounded suspiciously like 'wait till I tell Abigail'.

To add to his embarrassment, Arthur could feel his face heating up.

"I swear to God, I'll kill both of you myself before Micah has a chance" he growled eventually, just to stop them from snickering. Even to his ears the threat sounded far from intimidating.

"Of course, darling."

Another snort and more laughter. 

“Charles, Sadie is waiting.” Arthur looked at his lover pointedly, trying to convey through his glare just how dead Charles would be if he didn’t leave in the next few seconds. 

“I’m going, I’m going” Charles gave in, snickering. His hand briefly brushed Arthur’s tight as he rode past him, before speeding up. Soon, he was out of their sight.

“Like I said. Big, old softie.” John smirked, raising one eyebrow towards Arthur, who deliberately ignored him, pretending to scout for the best camping spot. 

“You know, if I were you, I wouldn’t be so smug about it” Arthur said once the other man caught up to him. “Remember, I was there the first couple of months when you were running after Abigail. And boy, do I have stories to tell.” He threw a quick glance into John’s direction, trying to judge if he looked afraid enough and couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction at the deep red blush that suddenly appeared on his face.

*

It was already dark before John and Arthur set up camp and got the fire going. They were beginning to think about getting something to eat when the sound of horses approaching alerted them that the others were back.

“Charles, Sadie?” Arthur asked, trying to distinguish their silhouettes in the moonlight.

“Yes” Sadie’s voice replied, as they moved closer to the light. “And we brought a guest.”

It was just then that Arthur noticed the third horse riding a little bit behind them. He could see it’s white coat clearly, as if it was glowing in the dark. It took him only a moment to realize that he knew this horse very well.

“Hello, my sons” Dutch greeted them in a smooth voice, as suave as ever, as if it wasn’t months since they saw each other. He dismounted quickly and made his way towards them.

“Dutch” John’s confusion was palpable, as he automatically returned Dutch’s embrace, something he probably wouldn’t do if he wasn’t so baffled by his sudden presence. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I imagine” he replied with a quirked eyebrow, sounding amused. Somehow those few words and the attitude with which they were said were enough to make Arthur grit his teeth in irritation. 

He almost forgot how unconcerned Dutch could be when it came to danger, the way he treated everything like a game. He was excited to kill Micah. Arthur could feel his blood starting to boil at this realization. 

“Arthur” Dutch embraced him as well, not noticing or simply ignoring the hard set of Arthur’s jaw. “Imagine my surprise when I decided to go for a quick drink before meeting our mutual friend and found Mrs Adler at the bar.” He explained gesturing broadly towards Sadie, who was now tying her horse to the nearby tree.

“What a coincidence, huh?” Arthur heard Charles saying somewhere behind him, tone flat. He could imagine his face right now, eyebrows raised sceptically, wry smile on his lips. 

Dutch’s eyes left Arthur for a moment and landed somewhere over his shoulder. 

“Indeed” he responded with emphasis, throwing a long, hard glare in Charles’ direction.

The fact that Charles was doubtful of Dutch’s sudden appearance, mixed with the way Sadie didn’t let him out of her sight only added to Arthur’s own suspicion. He was beginning to think that their presence here wasn’t as unexpected to the other man as he claimed. 

“So, we’ve got ourselves a traitor to hunt, gentlemen” Dutch said, his expression suddenly clearing up, changing to delighted at the prospect of it. He patted Arthur’s shoulder twice, before sitting down in front of the fire. “Just like old times.”

“No” Arthur’s voice came out harder than he expected, but the nonchalant way with which Dutch was talking about killing Micah was making him furious. The time he spent pondering if they made the right choice coming here, the sleepless nights, the doubts, and Dutch just showed up without a care in the world, as blasé as Arthur remembered. “It won’t be like old times.” He ignored the polite confusion on Dutch’s face. “It’s not a fucking pleasure cruise for us, Dutch. We’re here to do the job and get back to our lives.”

“Of course.” Dutch replied, blinking, brows furrowed, as he looked around the fire. “Well, then I guess we better get the job done, so you all can go back to your lives.” He stressed out the last two words, causing Arthur to set his jaw.

More and more he felt the ever growing rift between the two of them. Every time they met somehow it felt like they were moving farther apart with the way Arthur was growing into his new life, trying to live and take care of his family, and Dutch being too set in his old ways to understand the appeal of peaceful, quiet life. It was breaking his heart, knowing that nowadays he had so little in common with the man that once was all he admired and aspired to be. 

“Right” Arthur nodded, sitting down next to Dutch, occupying the free space between him and Sadie. “Do we know where he is? How many men does he have?” He threw a glance towards Sadie, then Dutch.

“No more than fifteen, but they are pretty well fortified and armed. They live in an abandoned house a few miles outside of town.”

“You saw it?”

“Not up close. I didn’t want to alert him before we were ready.”

“You mean before you were ready” Sadie corrected him with raised eyebrows, exchanging a quick look with Arthur. Dutch seemed not to hear her, as he continued.

“But I saw enough to know that it’s easy to protect. It’ll be difficult to surprise them.”

“We should go in quietly anyway, we may be able to kill a few of them before they notice us.” Charles interrupted and Arthur nodded his agreement. He could see Dutch grimace at that but otherwise he stayed quiet. It wasn’t surprising at all that he would prefer to go there with guns blazing, and Arthur made a quick mental note to watch him carefully. 

“We fought worse odds, three to one shouldn’t be a problem” John added with that false bravado that was uniquely his, flashing teeth in a feral smile.

“Sure” Arthur drawled, quirking an amused brow towards him. “As long as they are not wolves, Marston here can easily take three to one.” 

*

As it turned out the odds weren’t three to one. Arthur wasn’t sure how many of them there were, but he was certain that somehow Micah knew they were coming. Before they even had a chance to get close enough to take some of them down quietly, they were met with a rain of bullets. He didn’t need to hear the words shouted by John to know exactly what was going on. They were ambushed. 

There was a second, a barely noticeable moment when Arthur’s mind went blank with terror. This was it, they were all going to die here because of his foolishness, but it passed faster than he could blink. His old instincts kicked in quickly and suddenly he felt the cold metal of a gun in his right hand. The gesture of drawing out his weapon so familiar that it didn’t take any thought at all. His face tightened with intent as all of his senses focused on the danger ahead.

His shots were as precise as he remembered and for a moment he had to fight not to laugh out loud at the heady feeling that came with every bullet fired. With Dutch and John flanking him and hearing Sadie curse constantly, it felt just like the old times. It was exhilarating. 

Then suddenly, amongst the storm of bullets swishing above his head he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. A pained groan that he hoped to never hear again. He was already turning towards it, eyes wide and silent prayer on his lips, when he heard Sadie yell.

“Charles!”

Later he wouldn’t be able to explain how exactly he came to be kneeling next to Charles, but suddenly there he was. The other man was laying down on the grass with a hand gripping tightly at his side. There was blood seeping through his fingers, staining everything red, red, red. For a moment it was all he could see, until Charles groaned again, springing him back into action. 

“Charles,” Arthur tried not to think how shaky his voice sounded “let me see.”

“I’m fine” Charles protested, making Arthur marvel at how much exasperation he could still muster with a gaping bullet wound. “Go help the others.”

“Let me see” Arthur repeated more firmly, eyebrows set in a determined line. 

Gently, he moved Charles’ hand to the side, assessing the damage. He couldn’t help but breathe a small sigh of relief. The wound certainly looked worse than it was. It seemed like it only grazed Charles’ side. It was bleeding profusely and surely hurting like a son of a bitch, but wasn’t lethal. 

Arthur pulled at his bandana, almost ripping it from around his neck in the rush and pressing it into the wound, making Charles hiss.

“Hold it here and don’t move” he said with a sympathetic wince, before guiding Charles’ hand to replace his. “We’re going to get you help soon.”

Charles rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not fatally wounded, I can still help. Just give me a second to catch my breath.”

This time it was Arthur’s turn to give an exasperated huff, as he had to forcibly stop the other man from sitting up.

“Charles, stay here and don’t try to move or I swear to god, I’m going to put another bullet in you” he warned, narrowing his eyes as he stubbornly met Charles’ gaze.

Charles shook his head, but didn’t try to get up again. Instead he waved Arthur off with a resigned sigh.

“Go on then, help the others. I’ll just wait here and do absolutely nothing.”

Arthur didn’t try to fight the fond look on his face. 

“Thank you, darling” he nodded, lips twitching in a small smile. “I’m going to finish it once and for all.”

*

“Still hiding like a rat, I see” Arthur clicked his tongue disapprovingly, his grip on the gun steady as he pointed it at Micah. “You are too predictable, Micah. Sending the others to do the job for you, while you sneak away unnoticed? And you really thought I would fall for that?” 

Arthur’s eyes were razor focused on the other man as he stopped in his tracks, hand twitching towards his gun.

“Hands up” he ordered. “Turn around slowly.”

There was a sound of boots shuffling heavily on the dirt, before Arthur could finally see Micah’s face. He looked just like Arthur remembered him, which was really incomprehensible to him, because it seemed like they'd last seen each other ages ago. He felt like he changed so much since then that it surely showed on his face. For a brief moment he wondered if Micah could see just how different he was now from the Arthur that he shot a year ago. Then he decided that it didn’t matter. It was clear that Micah didn’t change at all, that he was still the worst of humanity and deserved to die for what he did to them.

“Arthur” Micah greeted with poorly concealed surprise. “It’s nice to see you’re still alive.”

Arthur snorted, his face twisting with disgust.

“You know, Micah, I always thought you were a good for nothing son of a bitch, but at least you were useful when it came to killing folks. As it turns out you can’t even do that properly.”

He let a small smile twist his lips, when he heard Micah sneer in response, exposing his teeth in the process, just like a feral dog. He felt his body shudder with revulsion at the pathetic human being right in front of him. 

“So what’s the plan here, Arthur? You’re going to bring me in and take the payoff? I can pay you a lot more money than they can. I can make you rich.” He took a careful step forward as he kept talking, then immediately jumped back when Arthur’s bullet landed inches from his foot. 

“You know, I never really thought about the bounty, but now that you’ve mentioned it” Arthur cut off, nasty smile suddenly spreading across his face. “It’s a good thing they want you dead or alive, because I’m sure as hell not bringing you in alive.”

Micah grimaced at that, his eyes fixed on the gun in Arthur’s hand. 

“I have gold” he added desperately “It’s hidden nearby, but you’ll never find it without me.”

“I don’t care about your gold” Arthur shrugged, feeling himself getting tired of this conversation. 

There was no point in prolonging Micah’s death. The sight of him squirming at the end of Arthur’s gun didn’t bring him any satisfaction, it only succeeded in making him sick in his stomach. The only reason Arthur didn’t shoot him the moment he saw him was that he didn’t want to shoot a man in the back. Even if the man was one of the worst scumbags he’d ever met. 

“Any last words?” he asked, adjusting his aim.

“Arthur, stop.”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t Micah in his last plea for mercy who said those words. Arthur felt himself tense.

“Dutch? What the hell?” he demanded, casting a quick glance at the man, while still keeping most of his attention on Micah.

“There is gold, Arthur. A lot of it. He’s the only one who knows where.” Dutch explained carefully, his hands outstretched before him in a calming gesture as he slowly moved towards Arthur. Clearly he was doing everything he could not to provoke him. 

Arthur sent him a disbelieving look. 

“Are you kidding me? That’s what your sudden willingness to help us was all about?” He snapped, causing the other man to look momentarily apologetic.

The truth was he wasn’t shocked that Dutch came here for the money. His sudden appearance was suspicious from the beginning. What was surprising was his audacity. He had the gall to waltz in and demand that Arthur spared Micah. Even more ridiculous than that, after all this time and everything that happened between them, he expected Arthur to follow his orders.

“You don’t think I want him dead just as much as you? Of course I do, but let’s be reasonable about it.” Dutch tried to reason, growing more impatient by the second.

“No.” Arthur shook his head firmly. He had about enough of being reasonable, especially when it came to Dutch, Micah and their little games “No, Dutch. I’m ending this right now.”

Dutch barely had a time to open his mouth, whatever he was trying to say muted by the sound of a gunshot. 

Arthur didn’t even blink as Micah’s body crumpled to the ground before him, red stain quickly spreading across his chest. He watched it for a moment in fascination, trying to find in himself regret or remorse, but he didn't feel any. Not only for Micah but also for the gold that was going to be buried with him forever. All he felt was relief that all of this was over. His last unfinished business. Now he could have peace. 

“No more games” he said, turning his head towards Dutch, his tone ringing with finality. He was met with Dutch’s dismay. 

“What have you done?”

“I finished the bastard that was threatening my family” Arthur pointed out, not trying to conceal his frustration. “I protected them just like you taught me to. Do you remember that, Dutch? Do you remember when you still cared about something other than money?”

“I do care about them. The money would keep you all safe, dammit!” Dutch shouted, turning abruptly and taking a few heavy steps in the opposite direction. Arthur could almost see the anger boiling inside of him. 

“How many times do I have to tell you?” Arthur replied calmly, his gaze fixed firmly on Dutch’s back. “I don’t want the money. It always brings more trouble than anything else. We are fine the way we are.”

Dutch stayed silent for a long moment. Then, gradually, Arthur could see his shoulders getting a bit less tense and his hands, which were clenched into tight fists, relaxing. He turned back towards him with a long sigh.

“If that’s the way you want it.” He shrugged and sent Arthur an assessing look. 

“It is.” Arthur nodded, meeting his gaze. “Besides, we’ve just earned ourselves a pretty good sum of legal money, by killing this here degenerate. The sheriff will be ever so pleased.” Arthur chuckled, as he moved closer to Micah’s body nudging it with his foot.

Dutch shook his head in bewilderment, but Arthur could see the corners of his lips quirking in a small smile.

“I won’t even pretend to understand you, Arthur.”

“Everything I know I’ve learnt from you, Dutch” he shot back, parroting the words he said many times, but this time with a slight teasing edge. 

Suddenly, it was easy to joke around. The heavy weight he was carrying in his chest for so long he almost forgot it existed, was lifted the moment he saw Micah’s corpse. When he saw Dutch trying to hold back his own smile, it almost made him giddy with happiness and relief. The thought of freedom was slow to take place in his mind, he fought it out of habit, but when it finally settled he couldn’t stop the laughter that left his lips. 

He was sure he looked like a madman, standing next to a dead body and laughing, and his suspicions were confirmed in the look on John’s face when he found them. Sadie was walking right behind him and, to Arthur’s great relief, she was helping Charles, who looked a little pale, but whole, and equally confused by Arthur’s sudden insanity as the rest of them.

“You okay?” Sadie asked, narrowing her eyes, when she noticed Dutch standing a few feet away. Then her gaze wandered to Micah and the look of vindictive pleasure in her gaze stopped the laughter in Arthur’s throat. He hoped he would never have to see that look in her eyes again. 

He caught her eye and nodded, then gestured towards Micah’s body.

“I caught the bastard when he was fleeing. He tried to buy his life with gold, but I wasn’t in a mood for talking.”

John huffed a laugh and Arthur could hear the same relief that he felt in that sound. 

“That son of a bitch really thought we would want his dirty money? And I thought he couldn’t be any more stupid.” He sent Arthur a crooked grin, barely even looking at the body on the ground.

Arthur shook his head.

“Yes, Marston, his stupidity beats even yours, that’s really a wonder.”

“It’s a good thing, he’s dead then. John won’t have to worry about competition anymore.” Charles added, eyes shining as he looked at Arthur. 

They exchanged amused gazes as John protested loudly. Then Arthur’s eyes fell to the wound on Charles’ side, that was now wrapped, but still bleeding through the makeshift bandage.

“We should find you a doctor.” Arthur tried to even his voice, but couldn’t help the slight quiver of worry. From the corner of his eye he saw Dutch’s sharp eyes turning to him like a wolf at the smell of blood.

“Just give me some whiskey for the pain and I’m good to go.” Charles shrugged and immediately hissed when he jolted his wound in the process. Arthur looked at him pointedly.

“You’re good to go?” Sadie snorted, adjusting her hold on Charles’ waist. “Maybe try that lie again, when I’m not holding half of your weight, tough guy.” 

Arthur grinned as Charles hanged his head in defeat. 

“I guess that’s settled then.”

*

It was another two days before they were ready to get on the road back home. They spent them in the nearest town, where they were able to find a doctor for Charles and collect the bounty for Micah’s body. Arthur was happy to find out that the sum was sizable even when divided between the five of them. 

“So much money for that sad bastard?” Arthur wondered while he and Dutch were two thirds into their first celebratory bottle. It was their last night in town and they intended to get really drunk. Dutch shook his head in disbelief.

“You know, Arthur, I must say I’m a bit jealous.” He replied with a small laugh, alcohol already tainting his cheeks red. 

“Come on, you must have been wanted for more. Famous Dutch van der Linde! Really?” Arthur raised his eyebrows, when Dutch shook his head. “How is it possible?”

“Well, I was trying to hide from law enforcement, he seemed to favor a different approach.” 

Arthur nodded and took another sip of his drink. For a moment he didn’t respond, staring into his glass. He swirled the amber liquid slowly as his mind flashed back to those early days.

“You had people that relied on you, so you had to be careful. Who would take care of me and John if they hanged you?”

“You would have been just fine without me” Dutch replied, corner of his mouth quirking. “Just like you are now.”

“Yeah…” Arthur admitted with a small smile of his own. “It wasn’t easy, though.”

“I can imagine. But you seem to be doing well now.” Dutch looked him up and down with a secretive smirk. “I mean, you and Charles…”

Arthur sighed.

“You figured it out, huh? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I don’t know how I didn't see it sooner. You’re completely gone for that man.”

It was really difficult to fight the urge to look down in embarrassment at the teasing tone in Dutch’s voice, but Arthur managed to keep his gaze firmly on the other man. This way he could see that there was no resentment in Dutch, he didn’t begrudge Arthur for moving on, for starting a new life. 

They both knew that it was something Arthur wanted for a long time, but couldn’t have before, something that Dutch would never be capable of having. Through the years together they both changed and even though they were still family, Dutch would always be like a father to Arthur, there was no way to go back to what they had. They didn’t want the same things anymore.

Arthur nodded. He took a deep breath, suddenly feeling bold.

“I love him.”

And just like that, he finally admitted it to someone. He freezed for a moment, waiting for something bad to happen, but nothing changed, the world wasn’t ending. Soon he was moving again, reaching across the table to clink Dutch’s glass with his own before he took another drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are really appreciated :)


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